


be my home (and I cannot sleep when you're gone)

by justpalsbeingals



Category: Arrow (TV 2012), Green Arrow and the Canaries (TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/F, First Kiss, Post-Crisis, like very
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-02
Updated: 2020-07-02
Packaged: 2021-03-05 01:08:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,338
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25035964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justpalsbeingals/pseuds/justpalsbeingals
Summary: “Hi.” Dinah maintained a position a few inches from Laurel, keeping her hands by her side. Laurel didn’t reach out either. Instead, she settled for her usual charm.“I came all the way from the past, don’t I deserve a little more than a hi?”ora look into Dinahsiren between Crisis and the events of 8x09
Relationships: Dinah Drake/Earth-2 Laurel Lance, Earth-2 Laurel Lance & Sara Lance
Comments: 11
Kudos: 65





	be my home (and I cannot sleep when you're gone)

**Author's Note:**

> me? writing something other than Avalance? more likely than you'd think
> 
> full disclosure, this is my first time writing this ship. i also recognize that I'm far from the first person to tackle this time period so for any ideas that aren't original i apologize, though i tried to keep it all to my own headcanons about what happened in this time. This was more an exercise in getting into the mind of these characters than anything else. also never have i ever worked so hard to make something canon compliant (so sorry for the stolen dialogue from the show but yanno)

There was a second there, before J’onn J’onzz and his magic (devastating) fingers pressed to her temples, where everything was okay. It was tranquil. There was no question that everything was right in the universe. Then Laurel's mind split in two as two timelines, one reality and one falsified, were jammed in her head. And just like that, the false world was gone, replaced instead by the emptiness of a world that had no Oliver Queen, no Earth-2, and none of the life Laurel had known.

It took a month before they were ready for the funeral. A month where everything was wrong, so they didn’t talk about it. Team Arrow hung up their masks. Leather stayed on mannequins and, instead, they attempted to get used to a new Earth. Not Laurel’s Earth, but the only one she had left.

For Dinah, this meant adjusting to Quentin as her overseer. It meant a world where her vigilante identity was no longer needed. The Black Canary could be gone because Star City was safe. Star City was safe and would stay safe. So the late nights at Dinah’s desk, laughing over Big Belly Burger and planning the future of the Canary Network, they weren’t necessary either. Not anymore. 

The second night with their memories reclaimed, after one day fighting Beebo and a second fighting antimatter shadow demons, Dinah and Laurel sat silently in Dinah’s apartment. The Presidential Address on Crisis had passed hours before. 

The two were perched on opposite ends of the sofa, nursing glasses of wine and their own emotions with little words between them. It wasn’t as if they hadn’t found themselves in this position dozens of times, but this time the atmosphere was charged with something different than their usual comfort.

Laurel broke the silence. 

“As much as I love wallowing in self pity, doesn’t it feel like we should be doing something.”

Dinah looked up from her glass, swirling the wine. Her eyes were rimmed with red. “Doing something?”

“Saving someone or something?”

“Look around, Laurel. There’s no one to save.” Dinah shook her head before throwing back the remainder of her cup. 

Laurel pushed herself off the couch, bringing herself to stand head-on over Dinah’s slouched form. “Well, I, for one, am not just going to sit here and drink away my problems. That’s too much like some other Laurel.”

“Laurel…” 

It was the blonde’s turn to shake her head, the gentle waves of her hair coming loose from where they were tucked behind her ears. 

“Hey, you’re here now. Oliver kept you here.”

Laurel scuffed the toe of her boot against the coffee table, once, twice. The third time was almost a kick. The table jerked an inch to the side; if Dinah hadn’t already emptied the glass, wine would have certainly sloshed over onto the table. 

“I need to punch something.” Laurel turned at her heel and stamped towards the door. Her hand was firmly clutched around the handle, ready to jerk it open, when she felt warm fingers wrap over her bicep. 

“Stay here.” Dinah paused a beat, her hand still grasping Laurel’s arm, Laurel’s fingers still grasping the door. Almost as an afterthought, she added, “Please.” 

“Are you going to make me talk about my problems?”

Laurel felt the shake of Dinah’s head even before she turned to see it. Not that she needed to see the answer, Laurel had resigned to staying the moment she felt those fingers against her arm. More than anything, Laurel planned on looking for trouble, or making some herself, just to feel like the person she was. But that hand and that _please_ had her walking back over to the couch to not talk about her problems.

And so they didn’t. Instead, they sat two cushions apart, some movie neither cared for playing in the background to fill the silence of the studio. By the end of the film, they were leaned up against each other, Laurel with one leg tucked under herself, Dinah slotted into the empty space, her head on Laurel’s shoulder. They didn’t mention it, rather just let each other’s presence be enough to make things feel okay for a night. 

They didn’t mention it when it happened four days later, this time at Laurel’s place. Or the following night, when they moved from the couch to Dinah’s bed. Talking about that would be far too intimate, too exposing. But far be it for Dinah to try and keep from exposing Laurel’s feelings. So the fourth time they found themselves nestled side to side, Laurel’s chin atop Dinah’s head, Dinah spoke up.

“Should I be worried you’re getting soft?”

Laurel snorted. “I thought we said we wouldn’t talk about feelings.”

Dinah didn’t respond, instead settling for pursing her lips off to one side. She chewed softly on the inside of her cheek. Laurel shifted to look over the side of Dinah’s face. Seeing it blocked by curls, she tucked some locks behind her ear, then quickly withdrew her hand. If anything, _that_ was soft. 

Finally, Dinah opened her mouth again. “Soft isn’t a bad thing.”

“What are you getting at, D?” 

Dinah shrugged, settling back into Laurel’s side, her face once again out of view. She felt Laurel sigh against her, “Let’s not make this a thing.” 

Dinah’s _okay_ was so soft, Laurel almost didn’t hear it. Laurel wrapped her arm over the brunette’s shoulders, curling her even closer. This definitely wasn’t a thing. Except that it was, albeit unspoken. One of them would turn up at the other’s apartment ready for a drink and a quiet night for almost a month straight. 

Until the night before Oliver’s vigil, which of course, they didn’t talk about. They wouldn’t be them if they did.

Dinah had attempted to bring up Oliver three times since that first night, all of which were shut down, Laurel’s definitive _I’m fine_ always serving to end the conversation before it began. They reclined back in the position that had become oh so familiar, alcohol coursing through their bodies. A little more than the normal amount of the intoxicant was coursing through Laurel’s. It was just enough to keep everything bordering on the edge of fine when nothing really was.

Dinah’s weight against Laurel’s chest served to ground her. Laurel's palm pressed firmly into Dinah's sternum meant Laurel could feel the dull thud of a heartbeat as Dinah's breathing evened out.

Laurel really thought she was asleep. If she had known Dinah was awake, Laurel never would have done it. But this moment was far too intimate and it was filling Laurel with a warmth she didn’t know what to do with. Dinah had been right almost a year ago: Laurel did have a heart. One that not many got to see, but that Dinah had wedged her way into. Which was perhaps why Laurel gave into the sudden urge and pressed her lips lightly to the top of the brunette’s head.

If Dinah had been asleep the way she thought, it would’ve been imperceptible. But then she shifted under Laurel’s arms.

“Did you just..” There was a smile in Dinah's voice, but it was cut off by Laurel’s abrupt repositioning. She jolted upright, ready to rip her arm away from Dinah, when her ever-grounding hand settled on top of Laurel’s and held it in place.

The two remained frozen for a second, half comfortable, half ready to bolt, before Dinah reassured her, “It was nice.”

Laurel stayed on high alert, the tension in her body so tightly coiled that she could barely breathe. Dinah laced her fingers through Laurel’s, the palm of her hand against the back of her blonde counterpart’s. When Laurel didn’t immediately pull back, Dinah took it a step further and lifted their hands towards her mouth. She pressed an equally gentle kiss to Laurel’s knuckles before returning them to her breastbone.

Laurel couldn’t see, but Dinah’s eyes were squeezed shut, hoping she didn’t take it too far, praying that Laurel wasn’t about to leave her apartment forever. She was sure her heart was beating a hundred times a second. Laurel could surely sense it. 

Laurel’s own heart was about to jump right out of her ribcage, there was no way Dinah didn’t feel it ricocheting against her back. They’d been toeing this line for far too long, covering whatever this was with snark and banter to avoid processing the implications of it. But after almost a month spent cuddled up together every night, they weren’t exactly maintaining plausible deniability. This just removed any shred that was left. 

The tension in Laurel’s body deflated as she readjusted, scooching to the right and turning to face Dinah directly. Laurel reached out a tentative hand to Dinah’s face, once again easing her hair behind her ear. After the tuck, she traced her hand over Dinah’s jaw, her thumb coming to hover just over Dinah's lower lip. God, Laurel was getting soft. 

But then Dinah’s eyes met hers, all green and pleading. Dinah leaned in a negligible amount, just enough to force the pad of Laurel’s thumb against her lip. Laurel’s digit slipped down, parting her mouth. Laurel closed the gap, her hand sliding to Dinah’s cheek as their lips met and the world fell away.

There was no push and pull, no battle for control, only the ease and comfort with which they breathed into each other. Dinah’s hands found their way to Laurel’s hips, fingers pulling at the small of her back until the two of them were almost flush. Laurel focused on sending all the feelings she would never say into her actions, hoping that the want and warmth she felt reached Dinah. 

The kiss deepened; Dinah slipped her tongue over Laurel’s, looking for permission from the blonde to continue. The smallest noise on contentment escaped Laurel at the contact. Laurel’s other hand came up to the base of Dinah’s hair, tugging gently at the nape of her neck, and they remained steady in their embrace. This was their way of laying all their secrets bare.

When the two finally pulled back, they came to rest with foreheads against each other, eyes meeting and searching for what this meant. It felt like hours passed in seconds, only the dull background noise from the television serving to prove that time was still moving normally. 

“I’m guessing you’re not prepared to talk about this either,” Dinah whispered, afraid to speak too loud and risk Laurel making a sudden run for it. 

Laurel didn’t, settling instead for a minuscule shake of her head as hints of her signature smirk returned. “That would ruin all the fun.”

At that, Dinah let out a puff of air, half a chuckle at a statement that was so Laurel. She leaned in for one more quick peck before sitting up. The flashing time of the clock on the bedside table caught her eye, reminding her of the long day that would be hitting them too soon.

“Let’s get to bed.”

Dinah rolled to her side, a quick hand darting out to darken the bedside lamp. Laurel settled in behind her, her fingers coming to trace up and down Dinah’s arm as sleep started to overtake her. When she heard the brunette’s breathing change, Laurel pressed a kiss to her shoulder before shimmying out of bed. 

This was a lot and Laurel needed to process it somewhere else, anywhere else. She grabbed the keys to her bike, slipped on her boots and jacket, and made her way downstairs. The frigid air hit her as she exited the building and, for a second there, Laurel considered going back upstairs, right back into Dinah’s bed, before thinking better of it. 

Laurel swung her leg over the seat of the motorcycle before taking off, accelerating far too fast until she was out of the confines of the city and on the open road. Laurel rode until the cold of the night penetrated into the core of her body, her leather jacket doing little to protect from the biting January chill. When she was certain her fingers were going to freeze around the handles, Laurel returned to the city.

Her own empty apartment greeted her. Throwing down her keys, Laurel couldn’t help but notice the bits of Dinah that had invaded her space. (Although, invaded implied Dinah wasn't welcomed in Laurel's space and that was the exact opposite of the truth.) A discarded jacket was lazily tossed over the armrest of the couch, a yellow notepad with case notes sat on the kitchen island. An indent remained in the pillow on the left side of Laurel's bed. Laurel cursed internally seeing that; there was no way she’d be sleeping tonight without Dinah by her side. 

Laurel returned to the living room, lounging on the couch and mulling over her thoughts until the sunbeams peeked through her windows to let her know it was time to start what was bound to be an awful day.

Arriving at the bunker Laurel said little to anyone. Dinah, Diggle, Rene, and Roy were trying their best, filling in their sadness with future plans and hopes. They gave their toast to Oliver over that terrible Russian vodka. 

“Prochnost.” 

Strength. Laurel tried to keep that word in her head for the day. The last time she heard Oliver say that, Mia and William were with them.

“So, what’s the plan?”

“I plan on getting as drunk as humanly possible.” Laurel sipped back the clear liquid, letting the burn settle in the back of her throat. She didn’t need to look over to know Dinah was giving her that look of pity; it was burning into the back of her head. Laurel stepped away from the group, letting them quarrel over whether the city was actually safe. She kept the bottle in hand.

The others kept their distance, instead attempting to fill the bunker with something other than silence. Dig on the salmon ladder, Rene quipping with him. Finally, Dinah approached Laurel.

“You doing okay?”

Laurel kept her face stoic. If it changed, she might crack and let slip she was feeling some sort of way about Dinah, about Oliver, about herself. Laurel averted her eyes. “When am I ever not okay?”

“I don’t think any of us are really okay, but,” Dinah paused to inhale, “it seems to be hitting you particularly hard.”

Laurel kept her gaze over Dinah’s shoulder. “I’m fine, like always.”

It was almost a mantra, she’d said it so many times over the past month. Laurel's eyes flicked back to Dinah’s face. For a second, Laurel was afraid Dinah would push back, maybe bring up how she left the night before. Dinah raised her chin in the ever defiant fashion she used right before she hit Laurel with something hard. 

Never had Laurel felt so grateful for Roy as he came and interrupted, pulling Dinah to the side and allowing Laurel to resume her drinking. Dinah let it happen, chatting with Roy about Thea. This was something solid, something tactile. Dinah could handle Roy talking about how he wanted to make a change in his life. It was a welcome distraction from worrying about Laurel.

Laurel had always been heavy handed, it was a fact Dinah was well familiar with, but nursing that many glasses of vodka was meant to numb Laurel, trying to drink something away. Dinah hoped it was drinking away the pain of lost worlds and lost futures. If it was, that’d be okay. At least she wouldn’t be drinking away what happened the night before.

Not that Dinah had long to think about it, before William was abducted and they were in full vigilante mode again, a whole team in the bunker ready to continue the mission. Dinah and Laurel were paired up. Of course they were. Full Canary costumes found their way on for the first time in weeks, but for them the search was empty. No bad guys to pummel, no bombs to disarm or reasons to let out their cries. 

Just as quickly as the rush of saving someone hit them, it was over. Mia was over comms and William was safe and everyone was back in the bunker, watching the newscast with Mia’s success. The feeling of pride that they’d be able to uphold Oliver’s legacy was in the air as they stripped themselves of leather, moving into black outfits for a different reason.

Laurel found herself in the precinct, looking for Quentin before the memorial. The search for William had cleared the alcohol from her head and she was overwhelmed. Getting something off her chest may at least help alleviate some of her feelings and Quentin seemed like the best person to help. There was no way she was about to talk to Dinah, lest the dam break and never stop flooding.

After a nearly too emotional conversation about why she was still here, Quentin pulled Laurel in close. She squeezed her eyes shut, holding the tears at bay. She couldn’t let them loose. There was a vigil and a funeral to get through.

Laurel and her father, the one she had left, at least, traveled together to the waterfront. Dinah found Laurel quickly, pulled her to her side by the crook of her elbow. She wasn’t about to let go. They remained there, wrapped in close to each other as they honored the things Oliver had changed to protect the city and their world. 

Afterwards, they returned to Laurel’s apartment together, at Dinah’s insistence. Laurel had been hoping to get away, spend the night in her own sorrows, but Dinah requested not to be alone and really, how could Laurel say no?

This time, they sat not leaning into each other. Dinah had her legs out in front of her, her feet tucked under Laurel’s thigh. Touching closely, but not too closely. Not close enough to let anything happen. 

“Today was hard, Laurel.”

“Yeah.” Short. To the point. 

Dinah knew better than to try and force Laurel to chat about her feelings on it. “Can I talk?”

Laurel furrowed her eyebrows in confusion, but opened her palm to hand Dinah the floor. 

“I know you say you’re not good with all this feelings stuff, but I need to get it out.” Dinah glanced over at Laurel, but her face gave nothing away. She just stared with intensity. “I’m feeling lost. Mayor Lance offered me Chief of Police. I told Dig and Rene I don’t think I should take it. Putting on that Canary costume today felt good. I’m not sure I’m ready to give that up.”

“So don’t.”

Dinah let out a wry laugh. 

“I’m serious, D. This is who you are. Sure police captain and all that, but you are the Black Canary. Go somewhere that still needs her.”

Dinah nodded. She’d already come to that conclusion, but it felt good to hear Laurel agree. 

“What about you?”

Laurel changed her facing, bringing her own legs onto the couch to intertwine with Dinah’s. “What about me?”

“Rene is going for mayor, John and Lyla are taking the family to Metropolis. What’s next for you?”

Laurel shrugged before adopting her usual façade. “Looking for trouble, probably. Or I’ll create my own.”

“You could come with me. Could always use a second hand.”

Laurel flicked her eyes across Dinah’s face, easily reading her. Dinah wanted her to say yes.

“If you want someone to move in with you, you could’ve just asked.” Laurel's mouth twisted up into a smile as Dinah swatted at her knees. 

“So that’s a yes then?” Dinah bit down on her bottom lip.

Laurel rolled her eyes. At this point, almost anything Dinah asked she’d say yes to. “Maybe.” She knocked her hands into Dinah’s knees, repeating her playful action from a moment before. 

The cheer fell off Dinah’s face, replaced with a sad smile. “Funeral tomorrow.”

Laurel let out a sigh, “Yeah.” 

“Bed?” Dinah tilted her head towards Laurel's room. 

Laurel swung her legs over the edge of the couch, pushing herself to stand and extending a hand to Dinah. “Yeah.” 

They didn’t talk much over the next day, not much to be said. They stood through the funeral, supported their friends. Laurel chatted with Tommy, his acceptance of her presence dissuading a little more of her guilt at being here instead of the Laurel that she would never be able to replace. By the end of the night, it felt like there was some closure, some sort of chance they would be able to move forward and do something good. 

Dinah told Laurel she needed a night alone to clear her head, leaving Laurel after the funeral with a promise to see her tomorrow. Laurel returned to her own apartment for another fitful night of half empty sleep. She was maybe too used to the feeling of Dinah sharing a bed with her, the warmth of another body comforting her more than she was willing to admit. Laurel would probably have to unpack that, but for now it was easier to curl up on the right side of her bed, leaving the left half undisturbed.

When Laurel hadn’t heard from Dinah by noon, she was surprised, but not worried. The captain had probably stayed up late, drinking a little too much or riding a little too far. Or maybe she decided to go into work, not taking another day to mourn. They’d already had a month. At this point, all that could help was time. 

Laurel sent a text Dinah’s way.

_12:17 PM_

_I thought it was me who broke promises, not you_

Laurel busied herself, stopping every so often to check her phone despite there not being a vibration. The fifth time she found herself hitting the on button in hopes of a reply, she shot out another message. It was to no avail.

_12:58 PM_

_Ignoring me over text, that’s cold D_

_1:05 PM_

_If you don’t reply soon I might get worried someone snatched you_

_3:32 PM_

_Shit did someone snatch you?_

Laurel’s fingers hovered over the keyboard, writing and deleting messages that she didn’t send. She’d never considered herself needy, but this was coming off like it. Laurel stood up in a huff, grabbing her keys and jacket to make her way to the precinct and find Dinah herself.

The second she walked through the door it was obvious something was off. The glass doors of the captain’s office, the ones that just yesterday read Captain Drake, were now adorned with the words Captain Hawkins. _What the hell?_

Laurel stopped herself at the first occupied desk.

“I’m looking for Captain Drake.”

The wide-eyed uniform looked up at her, stuttering for a second, before coming to stand. “Former D.A. Lance, hi. Um, do you mean Captain Hawkins? He’s in his office.”

Laurel sneered, a wicked edge coming to her voice. “No, I mean Captain Drake.”

The officer maintained his look of confusion. 

“Dinah Drake? Captain of the SCPD? Black Canary?”

“Umm.” The officer had his eyebrows raised high as he looked around the room in uncertainty. 

“Move.” Laurel walked around to the backside of his desk, pushing the cop to the side and entering his computer. She didn’t have time to play nice. 

She searched Dinah’s name in the database. No results. _Okay seriously, what the hell?_ She typed Black Canary. Still nothing. Tina Boland, Dinah's undercover alias. No dice. 

“You’ve never heard of the Black Canary? One of the vigilantes?”

The officer shook his head, fear in his eyes at the woman in front of him, unwilling to stop her though. 

Laurel stormed out of the precinct. _Where the hell is Dinah?_

Laurel called perhaps the only person she knew that could actually help with someone erased from history, which is how she found herself aboard the Waverider, listening to two bumbling men joke and prod with each other as they scoured the timeline.

“You said she just disappeared right?” Behrad looked to Laurel for reassurance. Laurel gave a curt nod and paired it with an expression that willed him to get to the point. “You’re sure she didn’t leave on purpose? Wipe her slate and start fresh?” 

“No.” Laurel's response was immediate and harsh. It earned her three Legends worth of whiplash as Sara, Behrad, and Nate all jerked to look at her. Laurel started again, a little softer. “No. Dinah, she, we had plans. She wouldn’t leave like that if it was her own choice.” 

Nate nodded, him and Nate turning to the parlour screen to ask their A.I. to search for any changes in the timeline that could be associated with Dinah’s sudden disappearance. 

“As far as I can tell, there is no record of a Dinah Drake having lived in Star City. There is no record of the Black Canary either.” 

Sara spoke up. “No record at all? What about Lau-- my sister? She took up my mantle.” The slip didn’t go unnoticed by Laurel. Not that it mattered. Laurel was more worried about the revelation at the moment. 

“Apparently not, Captain. Oliver Queen managed to save Tommy Merlyn from the CNRI collapse and he and Laurel went on to get married. She was working as the DA before her death.” 

Sara shook her head at the news, bringing her fingers to rub on her temples. 

“I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, shouldn’t have done the crossover,” Nate whispered, a little too loud, towards Behrad, who answered the comment by fluttering his fingers with Nate’s. Some sort of handshake.

Laurel slammed her fist onto the desk in the center of the room. She was seething.

“It doesn’t matter why, what matters is Dinah is missing. Find her.” 

The two men turned their backs again, not nearly as afraid as they should be after this outburst. Something told Laurel they were used to being chastised. Laurel’s fist was still pressed firmly into the desk, anger racing through her. 

Sara read Laurel's body language immediately. Laurel looked ready to scream, like one more comment and she would let out a sonic cry so strong it would destroy the front shield and suck them all into the temporal zone. Sara tapped Laurel on the elbow, nodded her head over her shoulder to beckon her to follow. 

They wound up in the gym, Sara tossing wraps at Laurel, then glancing over at the punching bag. It was what Laurel needed. As Laurel began maneuvering the wraps around her palm, then wrist, then between each of her fingers, Sara watched her, seeming to scope out what to do next. Laurel fell into a rhythm, just her and the bag. After a few minutes, the burning in her hands had almost managed to make her forget what was really happening.

Which is why Sara’s next statement caught Laurel off guard.

“Tell me about Dinah.” 

Laurel’s pace stuttered as the bag came moving back towards her, knocking her off her balance. It was clear she was thrown for a loop. Laurel stared at Sara for a second, before turning her facing back to the punching bag and recovering her tempo. 

When it became clear Laurel wasn’t going to respond, Sara tried again, “I’ve met her a few times to save the world. I don’t really know that much about her though.”

“She’s gone.”

What more was there to say? That Laurel being a hero was because of Dinah? That every time she nearly slipped back into the darkness, it was when Dinah didn’t believe in her? How could she tell Sara that she and Dinah were planning to make good for the world together? That they’d spent almost every night sharing a bed the past month and now she was missing. Was Laurel supposed to say Dinah never let her wallow in her own darkness too long without reminding her that she was good for choosing to be a hero, that the vigilante side of her was more real than the Black Siren past?

Laurel put her hands out to stop the motion of the sandbag and turned to face Sara. She crossed her arms over her chest. 

“Look I don’t have many people left. Just Felicity and Quentin and, and you. I guess.” Sara nodded, willed Laurel to continue. “And Dinah. Everyone else from my old life is gone. So I have to find her.” 

Sara bobbed her head again. “Yeah, I get that. If I could find the people who really knew me before all of this happened-- I don’t know. It would be nice to have someone to tether me to the past. But since I don’t, I try to hold on to the people I have left.” 

Laurel started to unwrap her hands, averting her eyes from Sara’s. This conversation was a little too close to something she might have had in another world with someone who was her real sister. 

“Any ideas that might help us find her?” 

“Aren’t you supposed to be the expert on this fixing history business?” 

Sara let out a chortle. “Usually we’re the ones messing it up.” 

“Great,” Laurel deadpanned.

Sara reached a hand out before pulling it back, unsure whether or not they were at that level. “We’ll find her. It just might go quicker if we knew a little more to help us.”

Laurel blew air out before starting, “Dinah’s plan was to move after the funeral. She didn’t take Chief of Police because she wanted to protect a city that still needed protection. She’ll be doing that probably, saving people. Canary and all that.”

As she tossed the wraps back to Sara, a blonde head peeked it’s way around the entrance of the gym. 

“Just checking in on you, babe.” Normally hearing that would make Laurel wince, not really the romantic type. But Ava seemed genuine.

Sara smiled fondly, walking over to her partner and snaking an arm around her waist. “Laurel was just working through some stuff.” Sara jutted her chin towards the punching bag. 

“Must run in the family.” 

Laurel almost instinctively grinned at the thought, as if Sara were her family. Technically, she probably was. She observed the two interact for a few seconds, picking up the soft touches and words the two exchanged. It hit Laurel how much she had in common with this Sara, what with the reformed killer and multiple timelines lived and the old adversary turned reluctant teammate to sort of friend to… to someone they could be soft with, let their guard down with, even if for a minute. She brought her face into a closed lip smile. 

“Any word from the boys?” Sara’s question brought Laurel out of her thoughts and onto the task at hand. Ava’s quick head shake only served to let her down.

“We’ll find her, okay?” Laurel nodded in acknowledgement, even though the words didn’t seem true. “As soon as we do, you’ll know.” 

Two weeks later, Laurel’s phone rang and Sara followed through on her promise. 

“We found Dinah.”

“Is she okay?” The first question was the only one that really mattered.

“She’s okay, safe.” Sara didn’t elaborate, letting the line fall silent for a second. Laurel recognized this tactic from her own Sara. This didn’t mean good news. 

“Sara.” 

“We found her in 2040, a small blip in the timeline led us there. She… she didn’t want to come back with us, Laurel.” 

“What do you mean ‘didn’t want to come back with you’? That’s insane. Why wouldn’t she want to come back?” _Why wouldn’t she want to come back to me?_

“Something about this being the universe’s way of telling her she didn’t belong in 2020.”

“Screw the universe.” Laurel stamped her foot into the ground. “She belongs in 2020, she belongs here with--” _She belongs here with me_. 

Sara didn’t answer, probably searching for the words. She settled on, "I’m sorry."

“Don’t be.” If Dinah was missing Laurel as much as Laurel missed her, she would’ve come back. If Dinah felt as empty without Laurel, if Dinah was having as much trouble sleeping, if Dinah felt as purposeless. Her inaction made it clear.

The line remained silent for an uncomfortably long period before Laurel remembered her pleasantries. “Thank you for finding her. I’m glad to know she’s alright.”

“Let us know if you need help again.” 

Laurel nodded, despite Sara not being able to see her. 

“And Laurel?” 

“What?”

“The line’s always open.” With that the call disconnected. 

Dinah was safe. That’s what Laurel kept telling herself. Dinah was in the future and alive and safe. That was what mattered above all else. But this sucked. Hearing Dinah didn’t want to come back. That sucked so much. 

Laurel spent the next few months trying to find a purpose, going between Dig’s new Metropolis home and Rene’s office in an attempt to maintain a connection with the few she had left. She spent twelve days with Felicity and the kids before the peppy blonde called her out on avoiding her problems. Laurel left the next morning rather than face the uncomfortable emotions Felicity would surely drag out of her. 

It had been 74 days since Dinah disappeared, not that Laurel was counting, when Sara’s time ship showed up on the top of Laurel’s apartment building. The future had changed. 2040 was about to turn into the most destructive year since Oliver’s death and Mia Queen was at the center of it all. It would start with Bianca Bertinelli’s abduction. 

“Normally the Legends would be all over something like this,” Sara started explaining, hands gesticulating wildly, “but we’re sort of dealing with our own Encore problem right now.”

Laurel wasn’t even tempted to ask what that meant.

“If it’s Mia, it’s got to be the Canaries who fix it.” Guess she was about to become a time traveler. “Where do I find Dinah?” 

Laurel didn’t know what answer she’d been expecting, but The Fish Net was not it. Dinah Drake, bar owner. It seemed a little out of reach, only making sense because Laurel knew how much she could actually drink if someone left her to it. Seeing Dinah singing and playing piano though, now _that_ really didn’t make sense. 

As she walked towards the bar, Laurel couldn’t help the twisted smile that crept it’s way onto her face. God, it was good to see Dinah. Laurel was a little surprised at how relieved she felt seeing the brunette this at ease. Had she ever seen Dinah so relaxed? Leather clad and bow staff in hand was normally where Laurel would say Dinah was most in her element. Singing and playing piano though, maybe this was where the captain was meant to be.

Dinah’s eyes flicked to the right so quickly she probably could’ve missed Laurel completely, but her double take made it clear she saw the blonde in front of her. Laurel’s smile lifted at the recognition, her eyebrows raising in sync. The part in Dinah’s lips meant the shock was genuine. 

As Dinah finished the final words of her song, Laurel felt a pang in her chest, her heart beating faster involuntarily. _They were just lyrics. Dinah was just singing_. But the way Dinah looked back at her, eyes wide, chest heaving, was enough to make Laurel doubt for just a second if maybe it was a genuine statement.

Handclaps from the bar patrons fell into the background as Dinah left the piano to join Laurel. 

“Hi.” Dinah maintained a position a few inches from Laurel, keeping her hands by her side. Laurel didn’t reach out either. Instead, she settled for her usual charm.

“I came all the way from the past, don’t I deserve a little more than a hi?” 

Dinah tucked her tongue into the corner of her cheek, unable to suppress the grin that Laurel elicited. She extended an arm. For a second, Laurel almost thought Dinah was going to grab her hand, before realizing Dinah was just guiding her towards the corner of the bar. They walked into the back, then into the elevator, saying nothing else until the doors opened to a loft with a clock tower view.

“Dinah, this is where you’ve been living?” Laurel couldn’t help the bewilderment. Hell, if she had this apartment she wouldn’t leave 2040 either.

“Well, it’s right above the bar, and it has got a hell of a view.” Dinah watched as Laurel took in the space, a million questions running through her mind, none of which she was ready to ask. 

“Black Canary and the captain of the SCPD now owns a bar. Also, when did you learn to sing?” Laurel couldn’t help the question, she really hadn’t known this secret talent of Dinah’s.

The brunette gave her a knowing look, hands on hips. “We didn’t have much time for karaoke back in 2020, did we?” Dinah walked over to the railing to mirror Laurel. Time to ask at least some of the hard questions. 

“So, how’d you find me? Sara?” It wasn’t really a question. How else would Laurel be there, unless she herself was dropped twenty years in the future with no explanation.

“She said that she found you here a couple months ago and that you didn’t want to come back with her.” Laurel’s eyes slipped down for a second, almost imperceptibly, except that Dinah knew all of Laurel’s looks. She was hurt.

Dinah settled herself down on the steps, a seated position more fitting for this talk than the casual lean on the handrail. This wasn’t exactly casual conversation. Dinah regaled her arrival in 2040 the day after Oliver's funeral, how all records of her had been erased. How the Black Canary was gone as well.

Laurel settled herself next to Dinah, a few inches still separating them. This wasn’t her couch and this wasn’t 2020, she didn’t want to push her luck after Dinah declined to return. “And what, you’re just fine with that?” How could Dinah be fine with no longer being the Black Canary?

Dinah wasn’t, not exactly. She tossed her hands in the air.

“I guess I came to realize that not having an identity can either be sad or it can be oddly freeing.” Laurel pursed her lips in consideration. “I can let go of the people I lost, mistakes that I made.” 

If she wasn’t herself, Laurel might have asked what mistakes she was running from. Deflecting seemed more like the expected response.

“I’m not gonna lie. Your zen is kind of creeping me out.”

The smile they exchanged for a second was just like old times. Laurel looked down as Dinah continued to tell her about the safety of Star City, which unfortunately led her to the real reason why she was there. 

If Laurel wanted a social visit, she would’ve done it months ago when Sara first found her. This was meant to be business. She filled Dinah in on the details of the upcoming disaster, combated Dinah’s resistance to restarting this part of her life. When Dinah said she’d do it for Oliver, that kind of stung. Never mind that Dinah was the reason Laurel really maintained her hero status, Dinah wouldn’t put the suit back on for her. Laurel shouldn’t have expected differently. 

As they got ready for Mia’s graduation party, they couldn’t help but settle right back into each other with their usual quips as they prepared for the night. Things were easy when they were together. Things were good. Laurel was clasping the latch on one of Dinah’s necklaces, when the brunette broke the mood. 

“God, I missed this.” 

Dinah couldn’t have ignored Laurel’s exhale if she wanted to. “You could’ve come back.” 

Dinah’s heart sank and she turned to face her. “Laur-” 

Laurel put a palm out to silence her. “Or at least let me know you were okay.”

“It’s the future, I-” 

“I’m sure you could’ve figured it out. Or had Sara deliver me a message when she found you.” 

Dinah looked down, fiddling with her bracelet. “I wasn’t sure what to say. We’re not exactly good at this.” 

That was an understatement. “Yeah.” A pause, then, “come on, we should be heading to the party.”

The rest of their words before the party were swift, discussing tactics for talking to Mia, how to save Bianca. They didn’t really converse again until late into the night, Mia’s memory dump and the resulting scheme to place surveillance in the Bertinelli house taking hours. The young socialite eventually left for the comforts of her mansion, the plan to meet tomorrow in place.

Dinah and Laurel were left alone for the night, their first night together since before Oliver’s funeral. The night they made unofficial official plans to protect a new city together. 

“I suppose we should try and talk.” The words seemed almost painful coming from Laurel. 

Dinah’s face twisted. “Dinah Laurel Lance, talking about feelings?”

She wouldn’t have even needed to look at Laurel’s face to know Laurel would roll her eyes at the use of her full name.

“I’m sure you know I’d rather not.” 

Their eyes met, green staring into green from across the length of the sofa. A position they’d been in dozens of times before. Dinah shifted into Laurel’s space, putting one hand down on her thigh. She peered down at Laurel’s lips, then back to her eyes, then back to her lips. “So let’s not then.” 

And just as gentle as the first time, they were kissing, giving into each other what they didn’t say, couldn’t say. They quickly escalated. Dinah crawled up, leaned over Laurel’s form until the blonde was reclining back. Dinah’s knee was slotted between Laurel’s thighs, her hands on either side of Laurel’s waist to provide support. 

Laurel gained control of her arms when she felt the pressure of Dinah between her core. This was really happening. Not that she hadn’t dreamed it too many times to admit since Dinah went missing, but that solidity meant this was real. One hand came to rest at the small of Dinah’s back, easily slipping beneath the sleep shirt she was wearing. The other palm drifted down to her ass. 

At the contact, Dinah pushed her knee up, resulting in Laurel opening her mouth completely to let out a gasp. Dinah now had full access to her. She let a tongue tease into her mouth, but quickly found it battled by Laurel’s. Last time they kissed, it was more about feeling each other’s warmth, laying out their desire for each other without more. This time, there was push and pull, each woman fighting for control of the situation. 

Dinah had wanted this for so long, Laurel for even longer, and neither was tempted to let it end soon. Laurel bit down on Dinah’s lower lip before slowly sucking on it, drawing out a moan. Dinah pulled back for a second to be greeted with the sight of Laurel flushed, eyes dark. 

Dinah leaned back in, her hands dragging off Laurel’s shirt by the hem before they came under the curve of her breast. Soon, they were panting, the contact between the two of them sending both women too far too fast. Between kisses, Dinah let out a breathy phrase.

“God, I missed you.”

“I know.” 

Hearing that, Dinah brought herself closer to Laurel, leaning almost all her weight into her chest until they lay flush. She felt the skin directly on skin before realizing that meant her shirt was missing. _When had that happened_? 

“I missed you, Laurel.”

Laurel stilled, fingers coming to the side of Dinah’s head before pushing her hair behind her ear. That familiar softness was so missed. Dinah leaned her cheek into Laurel’s palm. There would be time for talking later, for saving cities and fixing timelines and figuring out what would happen moving forward. All Laurel knew was she wasn’t ready to let this go again.

“I missed you too, D.”   
  


**Author's Note:**

> @justpalsbeingals on tumblr


End file.
